


They Call Me Devil (And You Should Be Afraid)

by slowmo_waitwot



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood and Torture, Fake AH Crew, Gen, Interrogation, TREYCO BEING THE REAL BOSS MAN FUCK U, listen this was needed ok shut the fCUK UP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 00:55:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14032620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowmo_waitwot/pseuds/slowmo_waitwot
Summary: Trevor is a dangerous, incredibly skilled man. Hidden in the background as the real Boss of the Fake AH Crew, it benefits them when it's time to get information from someone who thinks they know a lot about them. Kingpin (the former boss that the public and rival crews think is still in charge) not being there and instead is Trevor is priceless. Don't underestimate the Fake AH Crew.





	They Call Me Devil (And You Should Be Afraid)

**Author's Note:**

> im ??? sorta not proud of this but i HAD to write smth based on my concept from this post: https://jdoolz.tumblr.com/post/171934708384/roosterwhat-a-good-concept-a-member-of-a-rival. yknow how it is. anyways uhhh yeah   
> btw i take requests on my blog (jdoolz)!! writing, aesthetics, gifs, etc!! <33

Smug smirk sits on his face, lips curled in such a manner that it seemed like a laugh would soon fall from those sinful lips of his. He didn’t seem at all fazed by the fact that his hands were tied behind his back, even when the rope was burning his wrists with every small movement he made, or that he blindfolded by some dingy black bandana they had lying around, fabric smelling strongly of motor oil and grease. 

He had a strong suspicion about how this was going to go. From what he knows, Kingpin would come in first. Quiet, intimidating and stoic; he wouldn’t say anything until he sat across from him, fingers messing with his mustache, the smell of stale alcohol clinging to his suit. He’d likely try the silent treatment until he grew frustrated and try to cause emotional battery, throwing insults and yelling at him. Physical violence could occur but threatening seemed more like Kingpin’s style, contrasting the notorious member, Vagabond, who strictly stays mute and uses torture to get information out of unwilling hostages. 

The door opened and his smirk widened, menacing and a little crazed, as he waited for a voice to speak or a hand to move the bandana from his eyes. 

That didn’t happen. 

The door shut and there was silence, overwhelming and heavy. After time went on, his smirk slowly faded from his face and a frustrated scowl was on his face instead.   


This didn’t match up.

None of the members would do this, just sit in silence. They couldn’t, they were incapable of shutting the fuck up for longer than a minute! And with the bandana still covering his eyes, he couldn’t see them which didn’t click since from the information he had, the crew would want him to see them and try to make him cower from their appearances and expressions. 

What the fuck was happening? 

Hesitantly, he licked his lips and spoke up, voice rugged and monotone. 

“Which member did I have the pleasure of being in the same room with?”  


A moment passes before a light voice hits his ears, slightly high but smooth, seeping with charm and flowing easily. 

“None of the ones you know of. Sorry, they’re busier with more important things. I do hope I suffice.”

“Who are you?”  


“Ah, name’s Boss.”   


“Boss? Odd nickname, does your actual boss mind it?”  


A laugh echos throughout the room, airy and infectious. 

“My actual boss? I think you’re misunderstanding. I am the actual boss.”

A look of disbelief crosses his face, confusion setting in as he tilts his head. 

“What about Kingpin--?”  


“Kingpin! Oh, you thought _Kingpin_ was the boss, didn’t you? Well, you’re not wrong. As the original creator of the Crew, he _was_ the boss! Then he decided to hand it over to me so that he could be able to spend more time doing whatever the hell he wants to do. We keep the public thinking that he is the boss in order to have an advantage over idiots like _you!_ Never expect it, y’know? _Surprise, surprise!_ ”   


He was seething, anger boiling over as fingers dug into his skin, teeth clenched. How could their information be so _bad?_ He had been extremely confident, trusting the informant with ease but now.. Everything was _fucked_. This was an unknown variable being thrown into the fray and he couldn’t figure out how to calculate for it or how to act because of it. It was driving him up the fucking _wall!_

“I’m not talking about shit to you.”   


“Oh, you won’t? Aw, man.”  


Footsteps were heard as he felt the other move next to him, a hand moving up his arm over his shoulder to his throat. A soft gasp escaped as nimble fingers tightened over his airway,restricting air, making his skin blotch red and his lungs scream for oxygen. 

“You’ll be talking soon enough, I’m sure.”  


Fingers left his throat, moving to lift the bandana enough for him to see the other, close enough to see tawny brown eyes looking at him, bright and mischievous. He watched him walk away to a chair across from him, allowing him to take in his appearance. 

Boss was lanky and tall, that was obvious from how he was sitting. A suit was worn, a dark blue color paired with a white undershirt and a black bowtie. Hair was chestnut brown and slicked back, a grin stuck on his lips as he caught his gaze.

God, what he would give for a weapon right now. He’d kill this fucker so fast if he could. 

“So, what’s your name? It’d be rude if I gave my name and you just kept yours to yourself, wouldn’t it?”  


“Go fuck yourself.”   


A pout replaced the grin as he sighed, shaking his head.

“Not a good answer. Alright, who do you work for?”   


“Fuck you, you fucking scum.”   


“Oh, another bad answer! One more and I’m gonna have to go about this differently. What’s your job and what does it have to do with my crew?”

“Fuck off, asshole.”

His hand slipped into his suit jacket as he clicked his tongue in disappointment. A moment later, a pistol is lazily being held, pointing at him rather poorly. Moving to the scare tactic of having a gun? Boring. 

“One last chance. What is your business with my crew?”   


“I’m never going to tell you.”  


“Wrong move, buddy! Let’s fix this, yeah?”

He slowly stands, making his way to him, twirling the gun as his lips curled upwards, eyes growing darker as he gets closer. There’s not warning, no indication he was even going to fucking do anything before the twirling stops and he’s bashed in the face with the end of the gun, distracted by pain and the gushing blood raining from his nostrils to notice the barrel being pointed at his foot until a shot goes off and he’s screaming in agony, loud and harsh. 

A string of curses stream from his lips as he jerks around, trying to get free somehow. All the while, Boss stands there, blood spattered against the suit, back to spinning the gun as he smiles wickedly. 

“Wanna talk now?”  


“N-No, fuck you, piece of shit motherfucking asshole, holy shit!”  


“Oh, you’re a tough cookie, huh? Alright, buddy.”  


Another shot rings out, pain flaring up, skin burning as the bullet went into his other foot, bones cracking from the blast. A scream was torn from his mouth, piercing the air as tears streaming down his bloody face. Nothing like a little fear to make a paper man crumble after all. 

Anger vanished from him, replaced by fear and agonizing pain as he was in a conflict about telling something, _anything_ , in order to make him stop this insane shit. The internal battle ceased as he muttered quietly. 

“I was hired to deal with the torture in order to observe your crew’s methods. Informants gave us information and we had to check it the best we could. We were going to use your own methods against you.”  


“Uh huh, how’s that working for you?”

Boss wasn’t exactly that surprised from that response but he still needed to know who hired him and his name. It was good to have that information so you could really make the blow at the enemy hurt that much worse. Putting his gun away, he took out a knife, blade sharp enough to easily pierce skin. It wouldn’t be used until he got the intel but it was a good intimation tactic. 

“So,” Boss started, “what’s your name?”   


“Brice.. Brice Valen.”  


A smirk tugged at Boss’ lips, reaching forward with his free hand, fingers pressed the back of his neck to make him look him right in the eyes. 

“Lastly, who do you work for, Brice?”  


“..El Vaca.”  


Eyes light up at the release of the crew name, excitement swirling with rage as he nodded, whistling softly.

“Cool. Nice doing business with you, Brice! Sorry about this. Well, not really but you know how it is, right? Whatever.”

Bringing the knife closer to the other’s throat, Brice squirmed wildly, desperately trying to free himself before he was killed, yanking his arms and kicking his legs, yelling at the top of his lungs. Pleading, begging, trying anything to make a deal that kept him alive but it was water off Boss’ back, a wicked smile worn as he pressed a finger to his mouth as he attempted to shush him before pressing the knife against his throat and slicing. 

Blood spattered everywhere, coating his suit even more in the crimson liquid but that was completely fine for him. Brice looked ghastly, pale skin hidden by red, eyes lifeless yet open and mouth slacked open mid-shout. Tossing the body back, he placed the knife back where it belonged before he walked out the door with his head held high, hands readjusting the suit jacket slightly as he made his way into the next room.

Walking in, he saw the crew look at him as he shrugged, talking as casual as ever.

“Brice Valen, sent in by El Vaca to see our methods and check information, currently deceased. Gah, he was a messy one. Gonna take this shit off and head to the dry cleaners, I’ll be back by dinner. Pass the info down to the members of Back-Up, alright?”  


“Got it, Trevor.”   


“Thanks, Jack!”   


**Author's Note:**

> kudos/comment if u want dude!!


End file.
